


The Mirror Never Lies

by TalesFromPerdition



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Masturbation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-02
Updated: 2014-07-02
Packaged: 2018-02-07 02:43:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1882074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TalesFromPerdition/pseuds/TalesFromPerdition
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lucifer may have control over Sam's body, but that body is his temple and it should be worshiped.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Mirror Never Lies

**Author's Note:**

> Based on a prompt from the-blue-eyed-fallen-angel on tumblr.

If Dean Winchester thought that Lucifer would mistreat his vessel, the man clearly didn’t know him. And, true, they never sat down and had a heart to heart about it – mostly because after Sam said yes and failed to regain control, the Croatian virus left Dean a little too preoccupied for family get-togethers – but still… Lucifer treated Sam’s body very well, at least as well as Sam treated it himself.

Maybe even better.

After all, what did the men say that God said about a body being a temple? It might be the one thing men got right; God did favor squishy and fragile human flesh over the nearly-indestructible power and fury that were his first-borns. Technically second-borns, but nobody counted the Leviathan anyway.

Anyway, Sam’s body was Lucifer’s temple. It was his palace, his domicile, his refuge, and Lucifer wasn’t lying when he said he wanted to reward Sam.

“What do you want today?” Lucifer asked aloud, stretching himself out on the bed he never slept in. The bed was for show, as was the large mirror attached to the wall. The bed had silk sheets, the white pajamas over Sam’s beautiful frame were silk, because nothing was ever too good for Sam’s skin. The archangel propped himself up on Sam’s elbow, looking at his vessel in the mirror. “I could scrub your body clean of every blemish. I could bring you out to the garden so you could feel the sun on your skin. I could take you to the church and anoint you, getting my hand nice and slick before…”

In his eyes – in Sam’s eyes – Lucifer found his answer. He was the one who twisted Sam’s lips into the smile, but it was Sam’s face looking back at him. Sam’s eyes were always the most expressive, the part that proved to Lucifer that Sam was awake inside him, even if he wouldn’t speak to him, wouldn’t fight him any longer.

Lucifer almost missed the fighting.

Almost. He liked this, too.

“Is it the blasphemy that excites you or is it the idea of me touching you? Touching us?” Lucifer tried to adjust the grin on his face. Something about it seemed too much like him and not like the expressions the younger Winchester naturally made. He tried to control the minute muscles in his face until something flashed in Sam’s eyes again, a recognition, and Lucifer held the much easier, carefree smile of Sam Winchester’s college years.

College was the best look on him. Lucifer wished he could have known him then.

When Sam didn’t reply, Lucifer rolled on his side, reaching his hand out to one of the jars on the bedside. There wasn’t a drop of Holy Oil in the world that wasn’t in this sanctuary of Lucifer’s. The archangel made sure of that.

But he couldn’t bring himself to burn the lot of it. Not when he could use it for other things.

Sam was awake, Lucifer could feel him in there, thinking, as the archangel brought his fingers to his chest. They made quick work of the buttons, and he enjoyed the feeling of the silk slipping off the shoulders they shared. Sam’s shoulders were perfect, just like every other inch of him, and Lucifer sat up, leaning forward in the mirror to run his hands over the flesh, watching their shared eyes for any reaction.

Lucifer always got a reaction.

Before long, Lucifer saw their tongue dart out to wet their lips, and he wasn’t completely sure if it was something he decided to do. But he lay back against the pillows and the headboard, sitting up enough so he could continue to watch his reaction as he lifted their hips and pushed the silk pajamas down Sam’s thighs.

He wasn’t sure if the sound vibrating in his head came from him or Sam when he dipped his hand into the cool oil and brought his hand to their cock. But that was the fun of it.

“Look at you,” Lucifer breathed, reveling in the sound of Sam’s voice when it was deep and filled with lust. He moved his hand slowly over their shared flesh, and watched as the muscles in Sam’s thigh began to tremble. “Sometimes I wish we had two separate bodies, just so I could watch you as I did this to you, watch as you did it to me. But I love this, Sam. I love being so intimate with you.”

Suddenly, Lucifer felt his jaw shut a little more tightly, and when he tried to open it, to speak again, he found he couldn’t. So he kept his mouth closed, but still and enough control over the muscles in his face to twist it into a grin over the clenched teeth.

The groan that came from their throat was not Lucifer’s.

He adjusted the way he was sitting – he got Sam on his knees closer to the mirror – and he let his eyes fall from Sam’s eyes in the reflection to his hand. He slowed his movements, then drew his eyes back up to Sam’s as he felt his jaw loosen up in favor of his arm moving faster. This time, when their tongue darted out to lick their lips, Lucifer knew it was him controlling the muscles.

“You’re gonna do it to me this time, Sam?” Lucifer asked his reflection. His hand squeezed a little tighter, and Lucifer breathed out a moan. “I wanted to do something nice for you.”

Suddenly, images flashed through Lucifer’s head, memories that he didn’t think he was conjuring on his own. The demons in Sam’s life covered in blood after the two of them ripped the bodies of their hosts apart. Countless days in the garden, Lucifer stripping off Sam’s shirt so his vessel could feel the sun. Fingers, slicked with holy oil, pushed inside them, pressing against Sam’s prostate.

Lucifer grinned and closed his eyes.

“Alright, you win. You can do something nice for me, for a change.”

It was instantaneous. The grip they had on their cock suddenly changed, loose strokes turned more forceful, and a twist at the end left Lucifer biting his lip, staring into his reflection. Even still, as Lucifer was allowed to watch this beautiful boy in the mirror, Sam sent him images of dinners and flowers, of sheets and of bathes, of all the wonderful things Lucifer had done to take care of his temple.

As Lucifer neared his limit and struggled to hang on, he tried to keep his eyes open. The cry that came out was not just his – it was both of theirs, after all – and Lucifer desperately wanted to see the look on Sam’s face as they came, but he couldn’t do it. His eyes shut, and when they opened again, he saw the lines of their come dripping down the mirror.

Lucifer tried to look sheepishly, but he was held in place, pinned, until the head lifted naturally with the archangel as a passive partner.

 

The grin that Sam shot him in the mirror wasn’t unlike the one Lucifer originally gave, before he tried to school it into an expression more true to his vessel. But when Sam did it, that devious grin looked well on him, too.

 

Sam looked at his reflection for a long moment before his long legs unfolded underneath him. He stood on wobbly legs – because of the orgasm or because of the time spent out of control of his body, Lucifer would never know – before he got on his hands and knees, pulling a shoebox out from under the bed.

 

Lucifer stayed quiet as Sam pulled the silicone rubber toy from the box and grinned at his reflection in the mirror. “My turn.”


End file.
